


Bed Bugs

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Because he's a good friend, Bittersweet, Blood and Gore, Clay | Dream Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Delusional parasitosis, Dream is mentally ill, Gen, George visits him, Self-Harm, Torture, and also going insane, george comforts dream, prisoner dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28986144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Being trapped in an enclosed prison cell for months on end is dealing Dream a rough time, and he eventually develops the delusion that bugs are inside of him, roaming the underneath of his skin.(This fic is pretty graphic, and is not for the faint of heart. It's pretty short but has some disturbing descriptions of gore.)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 208
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Trapped In This Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Yes , I'm okay! I thought it would be..Fun to project my intrusive thoughts onto Dream because why the hell not! This was pretty hard to write for me as well, because I am very sensitive to gore and i'm super squeamish.  
> Enough about me, though!  
> I hope you enjoy :)

Its been months since Dream has stepped foot on the outside of this prison.

He watches his clock, 24/7, rarely tearing his eyes away from it. He plays with the clock sometimes, approaching it and watching it spin on the wall as he gently swats at it.

He has countless books in a chest, to write. He doesn't know what to write yet. But he knows he'll brainstorm something.

But right now is no time to watch the clock or write, as he writhes on the floor of his cell, desperately scratching at his own body.

Its almost painful, his nails digging into his skin, clawing and searching for the cause of this torture. His skin is roaming with a million tiny legs, crawling through his limbs, eliciting pained screams of terror from the blond. He feels his shoulder blades, and neck, and arms start to bleed, his nails tearing through and eating at his flesh.

Bugs roam the underneath of his skin and tickle the muscle, nipping at the nerves and buzzing through his pores and he can't seem to make it stop.

He begins to cry.

Blood streams down his skin, puddling on the obsidian under him.

And after what feels like hours, the itching and bleeding and screaming seem to die down, along with his energy and will to watch the clock.

_ Watch the clock. _

_ Watch the clock. _

He rolls onto his side, sobbing as his eyes meet with the ticking on the wall.

His skin burns.

He breaks contact for a second to stare at his bloody hands, noticing how the blood builds up under his nails and dries.

The crawling sensation is definitely there, but he can't bring himself to rip through his own body.

He only has one life, after all.

He drifts off into an agonizing sleep, twitching restlessly in the process as small mites continue to torture the depths of his body.

  
  



	2. Bug Repellent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George visits his bug infested friend, giving him a much needed embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically just comfort :)

The floor rattles and shakes, and he's awoken by the sound of lava shifting and popping and stone drifting through it.

He sits up, squinting wearily as the lava before him begins to pour downwards, draining, allowing him to make eye contact with a familiar boy, walking along the shifting bridge of stone.

He gently scratches his jawline, flinching as his nail crosses over a barely healing scratch from his last episode, feeling a small amount of blood smear on his face. The bridge ends at his cell, and the boy steps in, before it retreats back into the lava, and he sees Sam standing on the other side. The lava flows back down again.

“Hello, Dream.”

He says, taking a step, examining the exhausted, restless boy slouched on the floor.

Dream clears his throat, giving a half-assed wave.

“Hey, George..”

George looks around the cell, laying eyes on the 4 books scattered around the lectern, a few messy and scrunched up pages scattered here and there.

There was a small pool of water surrounding Dream's little water pit, and blood puddling beside it.

_ Blood? _

George's eyes trail back to Dream, noticing the gruesome claw marks covering his neck, all the way down his shoulders and arms.

“What..What did you do to yourself?”

Dream raises his arm to look at it himself, sighing.

“I'm not sure.”

His voice is noticeably raspy and coated with guilt. George can't help but feel sympathetic for him.

“Do you mind if I sit beside you?”

Dream nods, slapping the obsidian beside him, beckoning George to come sit.

He smiles, stepping towards Dream, sitting down with a huff.

It's silent for a moment.

“How've you been?” Dream asks, still looking at his bloodied arms.

“I've been..Okay. I'm sorry I didn't visit sooner.” He says, meeting Dream's gaze.

“It's fine.”

“Well, clearly not,” He laughs, gesturing to Dream’s body.

Dream clenches his jaw at the tone of George's laugh. It isn't like his normal elated, blissful laugh that was always contagious to Dream, eliciting wheezes from the blond.

This time, it sounded frustrated. It dripped with sorrow and exasperation, and it left Dream lightheaded.

He never liked when George was upset.

Dream looks down, eyebrows furrowing as if he's lost in thought, processing something in his head.

“The bugs died I think.” Dream states, deadpanning, staring ahead.

“ _ Bugs? _ ” George questions, a hint of shock in his tone.

“In me. I think they died. They haven't moved in a while.”

Dream knew his concept of time was damaged, what seemed like weeks was only a few days. Maybe they weren't gone as long as he thought.

“I don't...I don't understand..” George mumbles, glancing at the dried blood on Dream’s jaw.

“Is that why?..”

“Yeah. The scratches.”

It's silent again. Dream isn't sure if it's comfortable or awkward, but he still doesn't speak up.

George extends his arm, lightly pressing the scratch with his finger. It causes Dream to turn his head and look George in the eyes, sniffling quietly.

His face contorts as tears roll down from his eyes, closing them, crying softly.

“Dream-”

George says, before forcing him into a tight embrace.

He doesn't pay any mind to the pained whimper he lets out, or the way he shakes.

Dream needs this.

And he knows, because the slender, shaky hands of his broken friend snake underneath his armpits and grip his shoulder blades, his head nestling in the crook of George's neck.

“ _ I-I just want them to go awa-away..Th-they hurt so ba-d.. _ ” Dream nearly yells in George's shoulder, gripping even harder at his back, trembling.

George wishes he could help him.

He wishes he could eradicate the imaginary bugs that plague his friend's mind. His hands gently pat Dream's boney spine, caressing it softly, shushing him reassuringly and whispering phrases like ‘ _ You’re so brave.’  _ and ‘ _ I'm here. It's okay.’ _

The hug lasts forever, Dream clutching onto George's smaller frame like a lifeline, sobbing helplessly all over him, not wanting to let go.

“I'll stay here until I'm forced out by Sam.” George whispers, shifting their bodies so they slowly rest on the ground on their sides, still hugging tightly.

He continues repeating his phrases in Dream's ear until his breathing slows, and George knows he's asleep now. From what it looked like, he hasn't had a good rest in a  _ long  _ time.

He smiles, resting his head on top of Dream's, closing his own eyes, before whispering,

‘ _ I’ve got you.’ _

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Criticism is greatly appreciated, but blunt hate will be removed. Thanks :)


End file.
